Losing America
by FourSixTenKarate
Summary: I held the gun up and was headed back towards the Great Room to get Aspen when an arm wrapped around my neck , pulling my back to their chest. In the sudden motion I had dropped my gun, but no sooner had it hit the ground, had a gun been placed to my temple. -America; Losing America BTW: The first half of the first chapter is from The One then it goes into my story; NOT A ONE-SHOT
1. Chapter 1

AMERICA

The Great Room was packed. For once, instead of the king and queen being the focal point of the room, it was Maxon. On a slightly raised platform , Maxon, Kriss, and I sat at an ornate table. I felt that our positioning was deceitful. I was on Maxon's right. I always thought being on someone's right was a good thing, an honored position. But so far he'd spent the entire time talking to Kriss. As if I already didn't know what was coming.

I tried to seem happy as I looked around the room. It was packed. Gavril, of course, was in a corner, speaking into a camera, narrating the events as they happened. Ashley smiled and waved, and beside her Anna winked at me. I gave them a nod, still too nervous to speak. Toward the back of the room, in deceptively clean clothes, August, Georgia, and some of the other Northern rebels sat at a table by themselves. Of course Maxon would want them here to meet his new wife. Little did he know she was one of their own.

They surveyed the room tensely, as if they feared any second a guard would recognize them and attack. The guards didn't seem to be paying attention though. In fact, this was the first tome I'd ever seen them look so poorly focused, eyes meandering around the room, several of them on edge.

My eyes flitted over to Queen Amberly, speaking with her sister Adele and her gaggle of children. She looked radiant. She'd been waiting for this day for so long. She would love Kriss like her own. For a moment, I was so jealous of that fact.

I turned and scanned the faces of the Selected again, and this time my eyes landed on Celeste. I could see the clear question in her eyes: What are you so worried about? I gave her a minuscule shake of my head, letting her know that I'd lost. She sent me a thin smile and mouthed the words _It'll be okay._ I nodded, and tried to believe her. She turned away, laughing at something someone said; and I finally look to my right, taking in the face of the guard stationed closest to our table.

Apsen was distracted though. He was looking around the room like so many of the other men in uniform, but he seemed to be trying to think of something. It was as if he was doing a puzzle in his head. I wished he would look my way, maybe try to explain wordlessly what he was worried about, but he didn't.

"Trying to arrange a time to meet later?" Maxon asked, and I whipped my head back.

"No of course not."

"It's not like it matters. Kriss's family will be here this afternoon for a small celebration, and yours will be here to take you home. They don't like the last loser to be alone. She tends to get dramatic."

He was so cold, so distant. It was as if it wasn't even Maxon at all.

"You can keep the house if you want. It's been paid for . I'd like my letters back though."

"I read them," I whispered. "I loved them."

He huffed as if it was a joke. "Don't know what I was thinking."

"Please don't do this. Please. I love you." My face was crumpling.

"Don't. You. Dare," Maxon ordered though gritted teeth. "You put on a smile, and you wear it to the last second."

I blinked away the tears and gave a weak smile.

That'll do. Don't let that slip until you leave the room, do you understand?" I nodded. He looked into my eyes. "I'll be glad when you're gone."

After he spat out those last words. His smile returned and he faced Kriss again. I stared into my lap a minute, slowing my breathing and putting on a brave face.

When I bought my eyes up again, I didn't dare look directly at anyone. I didn't think I could honor Maxon's last wish if I did. Instead, I focused on the walls of the room. It was because of that I noticed when most of the guards stepped away from them at some signal I didn't see. Pieces of red fabric were pulled out of their pockets and tied across their heads.

I watched in confusion as a red-marked guard walked up behind Celeste and put a bullet squarely in the back of her head.

The screaming and gunfire exploded at once. I looked over at Aspen and watched as he took out his gun and raised it to a guard that has approached the table, but the guard saw him and sent a bullet into his stomach.

I screamed, lunged forward, and took the gun from his trembling, bloodstained hands. I acted quickly and shot the guard in the heart, he dropped to the ground, blood erupted from his mouth in a series of painful gurgles until the unidentified body stopped moving, and layed motionless, bleeding out.

I looked over at Maxon and Kriss, both looked at me with a mix of awe, and fear.

I bent down and I hit Aspen's cheek lightly drawing his attention, "Stay awake, and keep pressure on the bullet wound." I don't wait for a response, I just turned to Maxon and Kriss, "Follow me." I say walking away to the closest safe room, the gun held in front of me, as I scan the hall before we make our way down, mimicking what I saw the guards doing in earlier attacks.

When we reached the safe room I opened the door for them and told them to get inside.

Maxon looked at me with his dark brown eyes, full of hurt, awe, and lust. " Aren't you coming?" he asked before I had the chance to close the door.

I looked at him, smiled and closed the door with out a second's hesitation, locking it before he could open it up again. I heard him pounding at the door, screaming my name, but I just walked away, blocking any thought from my mind that would cause me to turn around.

I held the gun up and was headed back towards the Great Room to get Aspen when an arm wrapped around my neck , pulling my back to their chest. In the sudden motion I had dropped my gun, but no sooner had it hit the ground, had a gun been placed to my temple.

I struggle to breathe as my captor dragged my body into the Great Room. At moment's glance I saw at least ten bodies on the ground, motionless. My eyes searched for Aspen and I found him crumpled on the ground and my heart nearly stopped when he didn't move, but then noticed his green eyes following me and my captor as we made our way across the room to the group of people standing in the corner opposite to him. He tried to move, but his wound would not allow it.

Not wanting for anyone to notice him I looked away, as we reached the small group of guards.

"Lady America, what a pleasant surprise," said what seem to be the leader. The man himself looked respectable, brown buzz-cut hair, fair skin, he had a square jaw, with a little bit of stubble on it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief and in one fluid motion grabs the back of my head, tangling his hand in my wild curls, and covered my nose and mouth with the handkerchief. I kicked, trying to get out of the grip of the man behind me and the man in front of me, but their grips did not falter. Black-spots appeared around the edges of my vision and using my body was starting to become an impossible act. I fought against the hand on my mouth for air, but found nothing. I could no longer hold my eyelids up, and conciseness was becoming harder and harder to keep, and in the end it lost.

**Hey, thanks for reading.**

**Sorry this chapter is so short. It will be longer next time. What can I say? I love cliffhangers.**

**The beginning is taken directly from ****_The One_**** I do not own it.**

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	2. Chapter 2

MAXON

"Aren't you coming?" I asked when I saw she had her hand on the door, about to close it, putting more space between us.

She smiled and I saw the sorry and defeat in her eyes. When I thought she was going to say something she closed the door. I knew who she was going to, Officer Leger, I knew she loved him, I knew she wasn't mine anymore, but the impulse to fight for her, to be with her, was too strong, and I banged on the door, screaming her name until I knew she was too far away to hear me, at that point I gave up, accepting defeat.

While it pained and angered me to think of America with someone else, I knew he made her happy.

I paced back and forth across the small safe room, keeping my mind off what was happening outside. The dead. The injured. America.

I had nearly forgotten that Kriss was there until I heard, "Are you okay?"

I stopped pacing and stared at her. "No!" I practically scream at her, immediately regretting the tone of voice I used, but did not apologize.

The rest of our time in the safe room was spent in utter silence, her sitting on the floor, and me pacing the width of the room.

It seemed like hours, which it probably was, until the door was opened and two guards entered.

I walked up to the first, "What are the casualties."

"Fifteen dead, thirty-two injured, Your Majesty,"said the guard then looked to the other like he was hiding something.

My mind automatically thinks the worst possible news, _America._"What's wrong?"

"His Majesty, the king, would like to speak to you in his office," said the other guard.

I ran down the halls thinking only one word, America. No coherent sentences came to mind while the mix of terror and anxiety filled my body making the trip nearly impossible. The feelings struggled for dominance, but neither came out on top. The terror filled my thoughts, and the anxiety jumbled them as I slowed down my pace when I reached my father's office. I prepared myself for the worst as I turned the doorknob.

Inside I found my father sprawled across his desk, two empty bottles of whiskey on the ground, and in his hand a glass half-full with the brown liquor.

"Father?" I asked crossing the room. He didn't stir. "Father?" I repeated myself tapping his shoulder. "Father?" I asked my voice growing in frustration. "Get up." I shake his shoulders until he roused from his drunken sleep. " What's wrong."

He groaned, not leaving his spot on the desk, "She's gone," he said his voice thick with unawareness.

My heart skips, "Who, Father? Who is gone?" I asked, shaking him to keep him conscious.

"Am...m," he started, _America._ "Am...Amberly," he finished and I let him go back to his drowsy state.

I slowly made my way to the hospital wing, letting the idea sink in; the queen is dead; a daughter of Ill_ea_ is dead; my mother is_ dead_. The realization that I will never hear her voice again, or feel her warm hug, or see her when I get married, when my children are born, hits me hard each time my mind circles back to it. I'll never see her again and that leaves a hole in my chest I know will not mend or fade over time. Another scar, but this one hurts the more than any visible one.

When I entered the hospital wing, a team of doctors ran past me with a gurney, I looked down at the poor soul and see Officer Leger on the bed with his uniform covered in layered blood around his abdomen. We lock eyes and I see fear in his eyes, but not toward me, not toward what I could do if I told about America and him.

"Wait," I said not being able to stop the curiosity made even more strong by the worry and pain. The doctors stopped at once when they heard may voice ringing through the long hospital wing.

"Your Highness?" One asked, a surgical mask over his face, muffling the words.

"I must speak with this man immediately, if you would step away for just a moment," I said in the most stern voice I could muster through the whirling emotion, but came out flat and emotionless.

"With all due respect, this man needs surgery right now, Prince Maxon," said the same doctor who spoke before.

My fingers itched to run my through my hair, but my father taught me such habits showed weakness, so instead I yell, "Now!"

The frightened doctors rushed away from the gurney. "What's going on," I asked, not bothering to ask how he is feeling.

"Prince...Maxon," he said his breathing labored with pain. "I tried...to help, but...I couldn't get up."

"Tried to help who?" I asked, wanting to forcing the answer out of him, but knowing touching him could cause more injury.

"America," he said.

Now I could hardly breath.

"What happened to America?" I asked, choking on her name.

He took a deep breath, wincing from the pain of the simple act, looked me in the eye and said the three words that shattered my world, "Rebels...took her."

AMERICA

__I grabbed his hand, getting as close as I can as we walked to the gardens for a stroll.__

__ "Maxon?" I asked, intertwining our fingers.__

__ He looked down at me, and pushed a stray hair behind my ear with his free hand, "America, breathe."__

__ I looked into his eyes, confused, "What?"__

__ "Breathe."__

__ I looked closer and saw that the skin on his face wasn't skin. I reached up and peeled a piece off and suddenly he fell into a heap on the ground, a pile of ash. One second flesh and the next ash. I screamed, the sound echoing back to me, and suddenly I am in darkness...__

I woke up, and gulped down as much air as my lungs could allow as if I had been deprived of the privilege for my entire life. I took in the small room I was in, four walls made of rusty old steel. There was a door opposite to the bed, where I had been precariously placed on the thin mattress. I walked to the door with no hope at all, but figured it is the only way to get out, and tried to open the door, with no success.

"Let me out," I screamed, bagging on the door until my hands were sore and were sure to be bruised the next morning.

I felt exposed in the small enclosed space. Anyone at anytime could come in. They could be watching right now.

The hours dragged on, and as time passed, my stomach began to growl more and more with hunger, until the door opened entering three men, two guards, and a man in an old suit. The guard to the right came forward, carrying a tray with food, dropping it in front of me, when I realize I recognized him as the leader of the group. The man who tried to kill me. My blood boiled beneath my skin as I thought of him touching me.

"Lady America," said the man in the suit, "don't worry, we wish you no harm."

I make the most smug look I could make, determined not to be the damsel in distress, not here, not now, "If you wish me no harm than let me go now and this can all be done."

"Oh, how I wish I could, Lady America," he replied, unshaken, his politeness sending a shiver down my spine, "but I need information and we believe you have it or you could help us get it."

"I don't have any information you would want," I said, all smugness leaving my face.

"Is that so," he said looking me up and down, sizing me up, as if that could tell him if I was lying or not. "If you are telling the truth, I wonder how much we could get in return for your life?"

MAXON

I backed out of the room before I fainted in front of everyone.

America. She is gone. Taken by the rebels.

First, they took my Mother. Then, America.

I ran through the halls, letting my feet take me anywhere else. I ran to the one place in this constricted place that feels almost free; the gardens.

When I opened the door, I ignored the protests from close by guards, needing the sun on my face and the smell of grass, but that is not what I got.

The sun is stuck behind dark rain clouds, casting a dark shadow down on the world. The scent of the grass was covered up by the thick humid air. Everything out here didn't make me feel better like I thought it would, it only made my eyes sting from tears being held back.

I sit down on own bench, my back to the palace as silent tears fell down my face.

She's been with them for hours, God knows if she is alive at this point.

The thought of her skin a sickly pale, her blue eyes closed, never to open again, her skin cold as ice, made the tears come faster. Then, as if the universe was mourning with me, rain started to pour down from the sky.

**Hey, guys. Thanks for reading again.**

**I meant to post earlier, but school and everything.**

**I hope you enjoyed the second chapter of Losing America.**

**I do not own the rights to this story or the characters, Kiera Cass does, if you didn't already know.**

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	3. Chapter 3

AMERICA

"I told you I don't know anything," the sting did not surprise me this time, but it hurt none the less when the man in the suit, just minutes ago civilized, slapped me across the face yet again, convinced I knew something, but refused to tell him.

The man stood back up, laughing quietly to himself as a mad man would. "A tough girl, but I will ask you one more time," he continued, looking me straight in the eye, I could see the revenge and blood-lust in his eyes, covered in a thinly-veiled disguise, "What is King Clarkson working on?"

The confusion built up inside of me. "What are you talking about? What do you-," I was cut off with a slap across the face, but this time the man in the suit used the back of his hand. I leaned over the wooden chair that I was tied to , coughing blood on the floor. The sickening aroma of blood filled the room, reminding me of welded metal, making my stomach churn. I look back at the man, my hair limb and hanging in front of my face, obstructing my view of the man in the suit.

He turned to one of the guards standing in the corner and nodded. The guard walked over , untied me, and took me by the arm, ushering me out of the gray room, but instead of turning left to my cell he turned right, down a hallway I had not seen yet, which brought a sickening feeling to my stomach as we walked down the mysterious hall.

_What are they going to do?_ I asked myself, half expecting a response. The nervousness grew the longer the trip lasted.

The guard came to a stop at a wooden door with LB291 written on the plaque hanging next to the frame on the pale colored walls. He hanked open the door and pushed me inside, closing the door behind himself.

I took in the gray walls, the frightening medical instruments on the tables, and, in the center of it all, a metal chair with straps on the arms.

The guard took my arm, dragging me into the chair, and strapped my arms to it. The whole situation put me on edge. _What the heck are they going to do?_ I asked myself, and as if on cue, the door flew open, and a short, stubby man entered, carrying a clipboard. As he looked though his papers, I looked him over. He had a white, pristine coat, the part of his head that was not bald was covered in gray hair, and when he turned to look at me I saw his almost black eyes, which made me uneasy in my seat.

I tried to find words, but none would come as I looked into his eyes, feeling like at any moment the black holes encased in white, would grow and suck me into the never ending darkness.

The man walked over to his equipment that lined the walls, and chose the precise instrument that he will use. Out of the selection he picked up a needle and a small vial filled to the black cap with a clear liquid. He slowly put the liquid into the needle, holding the needle at eye level to see that it is filled.

He walked over to me, the twinkle in his eye making my stomach turn, and as he approached the chair I am tied to I asked, "What is that?"

He doesn't answer me, as he took my arm, his grip firm as I tried to wiggle free of his grasp, he inserted the needle, the tiny prick of pain minuscule to other misery I've felt. He pushed the plunger down, saying something, his voice sounding so distant as the room went in and out of, making my head spin until finally all I could see was blackness.

I woke up in a dark jail cell, a thing I had never seen before. I looked down at my hands and saw they are tied to the chair I was sitting in.

A man in a suit walked in and stood in front of me as if he was waiting for my response, "Welcome back, Gwen."

"Thank you," I replied.

**I know this chapter is short, but I wanted to end on cliff hanger.**

**I'm also sorry I posted so late. It's been a busy week.**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter and don't worry everything will be explained in later chapters if you haven't gotten what just happened.**

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**I'll try to post again by Wednesday,**


	4. Chapter 4

MAXON

I don't know when it stopped raining, but when my mind had clear enough to realize the hard rain had stopped and the misty air had thinned, did I look up into the gray clouds dominating the normal light blue sky.

I reached up and wiped the mix of tears and rain off my face, sniffling as I walked out of the gardens soaking wet. Dripping a trail of water, I walked to my room to change, and then to find my mother-my mother's body. A shiver made it's way up my spine as I think of what has become of her.

I stopped my thoughts before I could get any farther. If my mind kept taking this path I would be tempted to just crawl in bed, avoiding the inevitable, until I had no other choice than to face it.

I opened the door to my room, immediately ripping off my wet clothes and stepping into a dry suit. I look at myself in the mirror and almost didn't recognize the man starring back at me from his brown eyes that look as though they had belonged to an old soul who's seen and lost too much in his life to get his innocence back. But it was me. I'll never get my innocence back. Once it's gone you can't get it back.

I quickly patted down my hair, making it almost presentable, and rushed out the door. I walked down the many halls to the hospital wing, wringing my hands out, as if the motion would dispel the aching pain and nervousness.

When I reached my destination, I asked the first person I saw with a medical uniform, "Where's my Mother?"

"In that room, Your Majesty," he said pointing at the door located next to one of the surgical rooms. I didn't even bother saying thank you as I half run over to the wooden door. I grasped the polished silver, pausing, looking at the wooden door that separates me from one of the only people who actually truly loved me. I force myself to turn the knob and open the door.

Inside, the room was small, needing only to be big enough for one person. Against the wall was a counter covered in medical supplies, and in the center of the long counter was a sink. There were a few chairs the lined the wall, and against the far end, a hospital bed stood. There was a blue sheet draped over a lump in the middle of the twin-sized bed.

I consciously approached the bed, knowing what I will find, but still on the fence, not truly allowing myself to believe such a thing without seeing it with my two eyes. I took in a deep breath taking the white sheet in both hands, slowly revealing the face, only to drop it in surprise, and sit, crumpled on the floor, trembling in fear.

I rocked back and forth on the ground, "Mom," I repeated over and over again. The sanity leaves me in that moment, leaving me alone with the part of me that is broken. The part that will never be fixed. Everyone is broken in someway, but in that moment I am broken, every whole part of me crumbling, until all I am is a pile of ashes.

AMERICA

I walked down the almost familiar halls, tracing my hand along the metal, remembering the flashes of memory, running up and down the corridors, laughing, playing. Even though I knew it was me in those memories, I felt separate from the emotion that should have come with them.

The man in the suit-Jason-said that the palace took me during one of the attacks. He said that I was kept as prisoner and when they finally got me out, I had amnesia.

My mind told me he was telling the truth, but my instincts were saying that the whole situation was suspicious. Why would the guards or the king for that matter, spare my life? And when I woke up. why was I in a gown if I was a prisoner of war?

I excepted that it may never seem right, but whenever I try to remember my stay at the palace, I get a deep ache in my chest and a feeling of loss. That scares me the most. Whatever happened to me at the palace had subconsciously scarred me, even through my amnesia.

When I woke the only thing that came to mind was my name. Gwen. Over the past week, slowly memories were coming back to me in short, vivid flashes of color, or sound, or emotion. But everywhere I go, no matter what I do, a dark cloud of loss follows me around reminding me I will never have a normal life again.

MAXON

I woke up in my room curled up under the covers, still dressed in the suit I was wearing yesterday. I walked over and put on a clean suit, knowing I needed to look like the prince, but don't even bother brushing my hair as I walked out the door to the first meeting.

As I walked to the meeting my entire body was devoid of emotion, but the welcomed numbness that consumed my entire being, filling every cell with it's nothingness, was a blessing compared to the earlier pain.

My mind was empty of any and all thoughts, my feet mindlessly dragging me to the meeting.

I opened the door to the boardroom and inside I saw my father. While his dark circles showed he had not slept all night, he looked better than the condition I found him in yesterday.

I sat down at my seat, and sat there, not talking or listening at all, during the entirety of the meeting. When it finished my father leaned in and whispered in my ear, "My office now!"

I follow him to this office not one-hundred percent sure what he wanted to talk about.

I walked in after him closing the door behind the both of us. I looked around the room and saw the countless bottles of alcohol scattered around the room, figuring it was his way of dealing with what has happened.

He sat down behind his desk, pouring himself a glass of whiskey, "Maxon," he started, "after the announcement on the _Report _about Amberly's passing, you are going to announce your engagement to Kriss."

"No," I said as my father looked up, his eyes filled with unmasked rage.

"What?" He said, surprisingly keeping his voice level.

I looked straight into his eyes, holding my ground, "America is still alive."

He gulped down the contents of his glass and then glared at me, "No, she is not alive," he said holding my gaze. "The Rebels are merciless, she is long dead."

Even though I tried to convince myself he was wrong, that she was still alive, he hit my biggest weakness and I felt the numbness start to slip away, replaced by pain. Unlike anything I have ever felt before, the thought of her gone caused me physical pain. My breathing started to become shallow as the pain spreads across my chest.

"She is not dead," I said my voice choking on the last words, trying to hold back the tears as I stormed out of his office.

I ran to my room before I could breakdown. I collapsed on the carpeted floor and let my tears fall. I tried to breathe deeply, tried to relieve the aching pressure in my chest. But finally, without success, welcomed the blackness of sleep.

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**I have to confess while I was writing this chapter all I could think about was Allegiant. Gosh, I cry just thinking about that book.**

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	5. Chapter 5

MAXON

The weeks slipped out of my hands, leaving me with no hope of tomorrow.

_She's gone and there is nothing I can do,_ I assured myself.

The only thing I can do is move on, my father reminded me the other day.

I straightened my tie, starring at myself in the bathroom mirror, knowing I may never be able to look at myself the same way.

Every time I thought about my future, all I could see was myself scrapping by, holding onto sanity by a thread, waiting for the end. There may be some laughter, but even now, whenever I try to laugh, I feel a deep pit in my stomach reminding me of her.

A knock came from the door snapping me out of my trance, "Your Majesty, it's time to leave."

"Yes," I replied, taking once last look at my broken self before I walked to the door.

I immediately felt a weight drop down on my shoulders as I followed the guard down the halls to what felt almost like an execution. I hung my head, a manner inappropriate for a prince,but my head was too heavy as I walked down the long corridors.

When we arrived at our destination I sucked in a breath, preparing myself for what the rest of my life is going to be like.

The two guards stationed in front of the door opened it for me, murmuring greetings as I walked into the studio. I looked around the room taking in the cameras, lights, and the bustling people running through the room, trying to get their jobs done.

I walked straight over to the two seats placed in the middle of the room and took my seat. I closed my eyes trying to slow my breathing when I hear, "Hello."

I looked over and saw Kriss standing there, a small smile on her face, and had to fight the urge to groan. I forced a smile upon my face and looked into her eyes, "Hello, my dear."

She took her seat next to me, and I reached for her hand, thinking that is what I should do.

Every time I think about the situation I get a pressure deep in my head. It's one thing to lie every week in front of the entire nation, it's a totally different thing to lie to someone you are suppose to love more than anyone in the world.

Before I knew it we were on air, and Gavril Fadaye came on, "Hello, Illea. Welcome to the _Report_. Now, before we go to the king about the war, Prince Maxon has something to say."

The cameras were then pointed at us, Kriss, and I. I reached down and felt the small box poking out of my pant's pocket, and swallow the bile down.

_This was suppose to be her's, not this imposter sitting next to me._

"Prince Maxon, how are?" he asked, smiling like he always did.

I swallowed and widened my smile, "I'm fantastic, thank you for asking."

"Your Majesty, was there something you wanted to share."

I nodded, and slowly got down on one knee. I choked down my pride and put on a mask of happiness, knowing I could fool everyone. Everyone but myself.

"Kriss Ambers, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife," I say, trying not to sound disgusted in my actions as I pulled out the small, velvet box and opened it revealing a symbol for my undying love.

"Yes," she said, happy, but not as emotional as I thought she'd be. She held out her left hand and I slid the ring onto her fourth finger, fighting the urge to pull away. I slid my undying love onto the wrong finger, and there it shall be til death does it part.

AMERICA

"Kriss Ambers, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife," the prince said, smiling, but I could see his eyes were full of loss and pain.

The girl, Kriss, unlike any other, just smiled and said, "Yes."

My heart sank as I saw the two embraced, confusing me. I looked at them and jealously surged through my body, then was fallowed by anger and hatred toward the king, toward the prince.

_Those two monsters did something to me while I was in prison and I want to know._

Jason walked to the center of the room and turned off the television as we waited for him to speak. He looks around at the large room, filled to the brim with every single Southern rebel.

"The prince is finally getting married," he said pacing the small space in the front, around the television. "Let's bring Illea down once and for all. Let's kill the entire royal family."

Every person in the room seemed to lean a little closer to hear this master plan, "On the wedding day every single Schreave will be there and that is when we attack.

"The security will be even harder to breach this time and we need to get in unheard and unseen. We have been working on a plan..."

I zoned out, stuck in my own thoughts.

_I'm going to kill Maxon Schreave on his wedding day._

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**Don't worry it gets a lot more exciting and by exciting I mean violence. YAY VIOLENCE!**

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**I apologize to any Maxerica fans out there, this chapter may have been hard for you to read. (I'm one of you.)**

**TEAM MAXON FOREVER.**


	6. Chapter 6

AMERICA

I sat down on the small wooden bench waiting, looking around the large room. There were weights scattered around a small matted area near the door. The walls and floors were both a dull color of gray, making it hard to distinguish where the floor ended and where the wall began. There was a mat covered in random exes and lines made of tape, in the middle of the large room which I guessed was used for fighting. The far wall from the door was covered in what seems like hundreds of weapons. The collection stretched from the floor to the ceiling, the variety endless.

A tap on my shoulder snapped me out of my thoughts, "Gwen?" I looked up to a pair of pale blue eyes.

I quickly stood up, "Yes." I looked at the man-no boy- standing in front of me. He looked no older than me, and he stood at least a foot taller. The brown hair falling into his eyes contrasted with the light color of his eyes, but that was where the color stopped. He was dress in all black clothing and his skin was a light brown.

He looked down at me and for a second I saw a look of disgust cross his face before it returned to a detached look, "My name is Luke and I'll be training you."

"Okay," I said, noticing him diverting his eyes to the wall behind me, saying nothing, until I could no longer take it. I glanced behind at the gray wall. "It's not very interesting."

His gaze quickly comes back to me in surprise. "What?" he studied me, confusion crossing his features.

"The wall," I said, pointing to the wall over my shoulder. "You've been looking at the wall, but I just don't see why it's very interesting to look at."

I see his cold face start to warm up into a small smirk. "I'm sorry."

"I accept your apology." I looked around at all of the equipment that was in the room then looked back at Luke. "So what are we doing?"

He starts to walk over to the mat in the middle of the room, "I was thinking about starting on throws. The basic ones of course, nothing too hard on your first day."

"Okay," I said stepping onto the blue mat. "What do I do first."

He stood in front of me sizing me up, "First you need to know how to fall. You must keep your chin tucked while falling, this will help prevent any injuries." To my surprise he grasps the top of my head, making me stiffen under the unfamiliar feeling of being touched and lowers my head until my chin is touching my chest. "When you fall have one leg bent and one straight to prevent from clattering your knees. It may not sound bad, but trust me it hurts a lot and takes forever to heal."

"Got it," I said, feeling a little worried that I may do something wrong and hurt myself.

"Grab my shirt," he commanded, startling me, making my head snap up to look at him. I looked at him in confusion.

"Excuse me?" I asked, having no clue what he meant.

He reached down taking both my hands in his, placing them on the black neckline of his shirt, "Grab."

I did as he said, gripping the material. He grabbed my right elbow and my waistband. Before I knew it I was on the ground looking up at the ceiling. I looked at the hand reaching down and accepted the help getting up.

"You could have warned me or slowed it down," I said slowly regaining me balance.

"But where's the fun in that," he said, a wicked smirk on his face. "Do you want to try now."

"Of course I do," I said.

He grabbed the collar of my shirt. I mimicked his moves, place one had on his elbow and the other on his waistband holding on as tight as I could. "Now what?" I questioned.

"In a real situation you would want to knee your attacker in the groin to get them off balance, but for now just turn me to the right," he instructed me, his grip not loosening.

I followed his instructions, and waited for the next set. "Step around my back me into a low stance, but don't let go."

I moved so that our backs were touching, being sure I bent my knees. "Now, just flip me off your back."

I put as much strength as I had, leaning over , taking him off his feet, but before I had a chance to throw him onto the ground, my legs gave out from beneath me, and I fell. The impact and Luke's weight knocked the wind out of my chest and I struggled for breath while Luke quickly rolled off me, extending his hand to help me up.

"Are you okay?" there was a cold tone to his voice, making me shiver, I looked up and saw all the pure hatred all over his face that I thought I imagined before.

_Who the hell does he think he is, he just met me, how can he just decide he hates me?_

But then I realized that the emotion is more than hatred, he despises me to the core of his being. If I were to drop dead he wouldn't regret it, he wouldn't cry, he wouldn't even pity me.

The anger flooded into me and I stood up hitting his hand away. I didn't even think, I just slapped him right across the face, "Why the hell do you despise me?"

He stared daggers at me lifting his hand to cover the bruise already forming on his cheek, "What are you talking about?" he asked, but it was evident that he didn't care that I knew.

"You know what I talking about, and I want you to know that you can't just waltz into a room and just hate person you know _nothing_ about," I spat out, keeping my voice low. "You know nothing about me, so don't act like you do."

I started to walk off not wanting to hear one thing he had to say, but before the door closed, putting the needed space between us, I heard him say, half to himself, "Ohh, I know plenty."

His voiced echoed in my head, making me wonder, _does he know more about me than I do?_

MAXON

_She held out her hand to me. I savored those beautiful moments sliding the ring up her slender finger, the purple and green shining brightly, reminding me that the best is yet to come._

_I pulled her into a hug, trying to hide my tears before I kissed her, only wanting to be closer. I tangled my fingers in her wild red hair, pulling back to look at her face. I saw the water streaking down her cheeks, and I lifted my hand, letting go of her left hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "Yes?" I asked, wanting to hear the word again, to be sure this was real._

_Her smile widened and she nodded her head, "Yes."_

_I bought her in for another hug, but when she pulled away, it was no longer her. Kriss had taken her place, Kriss had taken her ring, her life, my life._

"Maxon?" I looked up and saw Kriss smiling down at me. "You fell asleep at your desk again."

I looked down and saw that I was still in my suit, "What time is it?" I asked trying not to whine.

"It's time for wedding planning," she said, still smiling. I stifled the groan threatening to escape my throat at the thought of planning another thing for the wedding.

The more I think about it the more real it all becomes. I'm getting married, but not to the right person.

**Thanks for reading Losing America.**

**I really hope you liked it.**

**Please tell me what you thought about Luke. So far he is all mysterious and I like that.**

**Tell me what you thought of Gwen. This is the chapter when you really start to see her character to form. I really want her to be a more extreme version of America. More impulsive, more angry, but doesn't let most people in. (She'll also start cussing more. Just so you know I almost never curse, so it's going to be...interesting.)**

**Sorry I updated so late, I'll get better. I promise.**

**I'll update again by the end of the week. Love ya. ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

MAXON

The restlessness of sleep was no longer safe.

My mind was no longer safe.

Every second driving myself crazy.

Thoughts intruded my mind.

Thoughts of _her._

I wondered the halls, the sun still asleep with the rest of the palace, besides the nighttime guards. My head pounding in my skill, making it hard to think straight; a blessing in disguise. The walk to the hospital wing seemed long as I rubbed the bridge of my nose, trying to relieve the pressure while not walking into any walls.

As I entered the hospital wing, the lights were significantly brighter than the soft light in the halls, making my head throb even harder. I blinked as my eyes adjusted, looking around the room.

It was empty besides one cot. I walked over to the bed, curiosity taking over. I looked down and saw a young girl in a maid's uniform, sitting in a chair beside the bed of the young man, holding his hand and resting her head on his chest. As I got closer I realized that the young man was Officer Leger.

I tapped the young girl on the shoulder and she lifted her head revealing her face, blotchy and wet from crying. She quickly stood up and bowed. I waved the gesture away, my attention on the man on the bed, there were beeping machines attached to him and on his mouth, a device that helped him to breath, "How do you know Officer Leger?"

"He is my boyfriend, Your Majesty," she said, her voice broke, holding the tears back when she said 'boyfriend'.

At first I thought that the woman must be mistaken, but as I looked into her eyes, I knew she was telling the truth. A coldness swept over my body as I lost everything again, this time knowing it was all my fault.

_If only I let her explain..._

I turned my focus back on Aspen, "What is to become of him?"

She looked down at her hands, "He was put into a medical coma, but hasn't woken up for weeks. He lost so much blood and...the only thing keeping his alive is life support." She took in a ragged breath. "He is being taken off tomorrow."

**Thanks for reading.**

**I know I haven't updated in a while, but I have a really good reason; I was in Disney.**

**This was a really short chapter, but I thought I needed to give everyone a little break after that revelation.**

**The next chapter will be about America/Gwen.**

**Please review and follow.**

**Ohh and I want to promise you I will NEVER post a chapter that is just and\ author's note. They make me soooo mad. You think there is another chapter and then you open it up and it isn't. I know I sound like a hater, but I'm not. Thanks!**


	8. Chapter 8

MAXON

"You look lovely today, my dear." I said feeling like I was back in the Selection, taking girls on dates when I didn't particularly want to. At that moment I almost wished I was back in the Selection. Even though some parts weren't as pleasant as others, life was easier, more normal. I didn't have so much loss weighing on my shoulders, pulling me down. I always had _her_ to talk to.

The sound of the door closing knocked me out of my reverie, reminding me I wasn't alone. I looked down at Kriss and shifted the picnic basket to my other hand grabbing hers with the now free one. "Thank you," she said looking down at her shoes, her voice a little distant, not quite in the present.

We walked down the halls in silence, the cold nothingness stretching on. We reached the garden and I set up our picnic without a word. She sat down first and I followed suit.

Our lunch was nice and we chatted on small topics, slightly touching base on wedding planning, but then suddenly going silent, letting the last words hang in the air, the wind blowing it into the green forest, away from us.

"Maxon," Kriss said, her voice small and timid. I looked over at her, she had a small dandelion in her hands, and she was staring at it, twisting it between fingers. "I know you still love her."

She said it so bluntly, it caught me off guard.

She continued to play with the small flower while she talked to me, "I don't what happened between you two, and I won't try to understand what you are going through–" she stopped and looked up at me, straight in the eye. "I don't know what happened with her and that guard that made you feel that the only solution was to let her go completely. But I do know that look." She reached up and touched my cheek, not in a loving way, but in a platonic way. "That look a appears on your face when she was mentioned, when she entered a room, when you talked to her. It is a look of adoration and love and every emotion in the world. And you may not believe me, but every time she looked at you it was the same sparkle in her eyes, the elation of her mood. But that day in the Great Hall it was all masked, it was as if all emotion, every feeling left you." I looked away, trying to push back the crushing memory, but the hand on my cheek kept me from averting my gaze. "She was crushed, everything about her gave way to utter defeat. You had something, something I can only dream to have with you.

"Maxon, as much time as you need, you take. I won't ask anything of you. I believe we can be happy, but what you had with her only comes once. No second chance." she slowly rose from her spot on the ground and as she did she gently kissed my cheek and quietly whispered in my ear as if she feared someone would walk by and hear, "I won't leave you,_ ever._ The second I excepted your proposal I knew what I was getting into and it is a promise I am determined to keep until the day comes when you want to send me away." And with that she left, leaving me with one thought; _You don't deserve a life of chasing the heart of a man that is already dead inside._

AMERICA

The meeting lasted for hours. We debated every single detail.

How we were going to breech palace security. When we were going to attack; before, after, or during the ceremony. Were we going to wear disguises or barge in, covered in weapons.

There was not an aspect that was not discussed, but one. The one that crossed my mind the entire time; who was going to kill the prince.

Once we were dismissed I rushed over to Jason wanting to talk before he was taken away, not to be seen until the next meeting.

"Jason," I called out, searching for that tattered old suit. I finally spotted the blackish, now gray suit and rushed over to it. "Jason."

He looked over in my direction and smiled, not a genuine one though. "Gwen, what can I do for you."

I looked around at the people shuffling out of the room, some lurking near Jason waiting to get his attention, "Can we talk in private."

"Sure, let's go talk in my office," he said, motioning for me to follow him. We walked down a few hallways before we reached his office.

We entered the room and I took in a deep breath as Jason made his way around his desk to his chair. I did not dare sit down, wanting him to think I had the upper hand.

"Jason," I looked him straight in the eye and spoke my mind. "I want – no, I need to kill the prince."

I waited for his reaction, but he didn't respond. He sat in his chair looking back me, his emotionless face revealing nothing of his thoughts or feelings.

As the time stretch on, I got more and more annoyed, "Well?"

"Why?" he kept his expressionless mask on, not letting anything show.

"Why?" I asked, trying hard to keep my temper down, but not succeeding in biting down defiant remarks.

He stood up as if he were going to yell, but instead took a deep breath and asked in a very toneless voice, "Why do you want to kill the prince."

I turned around not wanting to look at him, finding it harder than I thought it would be to express my feelings. One of the only things I have left were my feelings, while my memories, family, friends, all taken away from me at once. No one coming to my side to call me sister or friend, niece or daughter, cousin or foe as if I didn't have a life before the amnesia.

I forced myself to at least turn around to talk, but was not able to bring myself to look at him, see the expression on his face, if he does choose to shed the mask. "When I came to all I knew about myself was my name. I didn't remember family or friends, if I ever did have any, but I did remember feelings. Feelings of pain, loss, sadness, and...and I still feel them... in the back of my mind, at the bottom of my gut, itching to be deciphered to have a purpose of being there, haunting me." I swallowed a gulp air and continued, knowing I couldn't stop there. "And I know it has something to do with the prince.

"I want revenge...I want revenge on the prince, the royal family, the entire country." I took a step forward, closer to him, wanting to make him listen, understand. "I want them to feel my pain."

"Gwen, I am going to be honest with you," he let his mask fall for a second before going back up, showing a softness in his gaze, empathy. "You sound ve–"

A white light flashed before my eyes, blinding me, as if someone had taken a picture from very close up. I opened my eyes and found a man in a ragged suit leaning over me. It is at that point that I realized that I was on the ground. I looked around and knew I wasn't in the palace and for the life of me, I couldn't remember how got there. Just a minute ago I was at the palace, walking away from the safe room that housed Maxon and Kriss. A deep ache shot though me as I realized that Maxon may think I'm dead. He may already be engaged to Kriss, making me only a painful memory. I wondered about how long I was asleep. How long ago the rebel attack was. _Aspen._ My mind raced back to the attack and saw him getting shot over and over again in my head, not knowing if he survived or not. _What about Lucy or–_

The man in the suit's words penetrated my thoughts, snapping me out of my head, "Gwen?"

"Where am I?" I asked, quickly dismissing his question. "Where's Maxon?"

"Your in my office, remember? Gwen, don't you?"

"Who's Gwen?" I say, standing up starting to get angry.

The man looked around, rubbing his jaw, obviously distressed. He finally looked back, "You are."

I don't know what came over me, but I was suddenly charging at him, and clawing at his face. I felt my nail cut into skin, but then I stopped, feeling the blood that had stayed in my nail. I looked up into the man's eyes horrified at what I just did, recognizing the man in the suit. I fell to the ground, curling up in a fetal position. "Jason what's happening to me? I felt like I was suddenly someone entirely different. All these thoughts...things I don't even know about..."

**I am sooo sorry I haven't updated in so long. School is crazy and I have so many other activities.**

**I also read ****_Innocence _****(we'll see if the movie coming out in summer is any good) and I am halfway through ****_The Nine Lives of Chloe_**** King(entirely different from the TV show.)**

**No one has review and I am not exaggerating.**

**Please please please review. I want feed back.**

**I know the last chapter wasn't amazing, but come on Aspen is dead.**

**Well, thanks for reading.**


	9. Chapter 9

Maxon

Acceptance.

That is the last stage of grief. I had to accept that my mother is dead. In a way I had. I had accepted that I will never see her again. I had accepted that I will never hear her voice again. And yet I have not put those three words together, making it official;_she is dead._

I didn't know the state of my father. He hadn't come out of his room. I had checked on him once a few days ago and the stench of the room was unbearable;alcohol. He had not worked since she died, leaving all his work to me.

I looked over at the clock and see that the morning has pasted and it was time to work. I walked to my father's office to grab his–my–work for the day.

I approached the door to his office, and without thinking I opened the door only to find my father and another man standing in the middle of the room. The man was in a pristine, white suit and in his hand was a vial, the liquid inside a pale blue. The eyes of the two men fell on me, but I kept my eyes on the vial up until the moment the man stuffed it into his breast-pocket.

I finally let my eyes drift to my father and see that he looked unruffled as if he hadn't just lost his wife;a clean shave and perfectly ironed suit the color of the night. "Maxon, get out!" he breathed, anger flashing across his features.

I quickly closed the door and rushed away from the two men. I went to the gardens and opened the door, letting the warm rays fall upon my being. I think back to the vial, allowing my mind to ponder the purpose of it's contents.

The sun slowly fell from the sky and I knew I must leave soon, but the pale blue kept coming to mind, and I realized that I must find out what it was.

I walk through the halls aimlessly that silent evening. Then, without warning, I heard _her _voice, angelic as ever, singing out to me a soft lullaby from my childhood. I felt a horrible, tearing feeling rip through my stomach as I ran down the hall, hoping to find the source of the beautiful sound, knowing nothing good would come of it. I ran to her room and opened the door. I found nothing inside. With only the faint echos of her voice in the back of my mind I walked, hands shaking, out of the room.

AMERICA

_Gwen._

_That is my name._

I stared down at my hands, the dried blood taking residence beneath my finger nails.

"She is just in shock," I heard from the corner of Jason's office. It doesn't bother me that they are talking about me. They don't know what's happening to me. I don't know what is happening to me. Maybe I'm going crazy, or I could have multiple personality disorder. It could have been a ghost. The possibilities are endless.

I heard the door open, another joining in to watch the freak show, but I just stared down at the blood. The pain, caused by me or not, is shown on my hands. The idea that I may be losing control scared me. The blood made me angry, the blood drawn by me. I took the hem of my shirt and started to rub wildly against the dark red. I scrubbed until two hands come down, and grasp mine, holding them gently. I looked up and my eyes found a pair of pale eyes; Luke. His eyes were warmer than the day met him, but I didn't believe in such a quick change of heart;the softness was only pity. I pulled my hands out of his, and continued to scrape the blood from beneath my finger nails. Just like before, he grabbed my hands, but this time I didn't pull back, I turned my face away. I felt the tears on my face for the time. I tried to take my hands back to wipe them away, but before I could he reached up to wipe them away for me. He gently wiped away the tears that covered my face. When he pulled his hand back, I finally met his gaze, and see that his cheeks have turned pink.

We stay like that for a while, just looking at each other, until he pulled away. I looked over at Jason, who stood in the corner speaking to a few other men. "I'm sorry," I said, my voice cracking. I swiftly leave the room, mindlessly rubbing at the blood.

**I am sooo sooo sorry for taking this long to update.**

**I was having writer's block, then I got sick, and I had a boatload of homework, and I am just sorry.**

**Please forgive me and keep reading.**

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**Love you guys ;)**


	10. Chapter 10

AMERICA

I rubbed mindlessly at my finger nails. The blood that had once encrusted them long gone, but the feeling of the red substance stayed, a ghost of the truth; I'm losing control.

The day replayed in my mind, making my stomach churn. The thought of not being able to control my own mind making me realize how thin the line of sanity really is; to know the thoughts of a nonexistent person. To believe you're that person.

The knock at the door was unmistakable, but I refused to acknowledge it.

"Gwen?" a voice drifted in from the hallway, the door making the sound soft. I didn't respond, I didn't make a sound. "Gwen?" This time the voice was a little louder, almost a little worried, but I refused to speak.

Finally the visitor burst through the door, making me jump. I didn't turn around on my bed to see who the visitor was, I just kept rubbing at my fingernails, trying to wash away the feeling of the dark, crimson liquid.

I felt the pressure of the visitor's eyes on my back, but still I refused to turn around.

"Please, just leave," I whispered, turning around I was met with a pair of pale blue eyes.

"No," Luke used a gentle voice, but I did not mistake that for kindness.

I looked straight into his eyes, the pale shades swirling together, "What do you want, then?"

"I wanted to see if you were okay," he whispered, but still, I could hear the edge of annoyance protruding his words.

"Hell you do," I murmured to myself but not soft enough.

Luke took in a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, "Are you alright?"

"Yup, just goin' crazy," I deadpanned.

A small, sad smile played across his face, "I would expect nothing less." And with that he turned on his heels, making his way to the small wooden door at the other end of the room which he most likely had to duck under to get into the room.

Suddenly, I didn't want him to leave. I didn't want to be left alone. The words came out before I could stop them, "Wait, Luke."

He looked back at me, his pale eyes dancing in the light, but the expression on his face was what scared me; hopeful and sad, "Yes?"

I closed my eyes, knowing I could not look into his pale ones as I spoke, "Please don't leave just yet."

I slowly raised my eyes to look into his, the emotion was displayed blatantly; surprise and what I thought was confusion. He shook his head slowly as if to shake clear his thoughts and emotion, and when he looked back into my eyes it was as if his face was stripped clean of emotion, "No," he whispered. He turned around and left.

And so I laid down, rubbing my hands raw as, slowly, sleep encased my body and ripped clear my mind of its burden.

MAXON

Sitting here, drowning out the conversation happening all around me, an old quote came to mind.

"Eyes, look out for the last time! Arms, make your last embrace! And lips, you are the doors of breath. Seal with a righteous kiss the deal I have made with death forever."

-Romeo; William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.

I was always drawn to this play, but never had I felt the way about the ending before that moment; he was one of the lucky ones.

I realized that now.

He left the world knowing love, knowing the extent at which he would go to never to never know the pain that latched onto my body, slowly, but surely, grinding me down until I was nothing but a shadow. The fact looms over my head, leaving with it a feeling of demise and relief. I relished the relief. Soon, I thought, soon. Soon this nightmare will be over. Soon I will be sitting on the stage again, Kriss on my left, her on my right...

My name broke my reverie and for a second I forgot where I was.

I looked up and saw the party sitting at the table staring at me as if waiting for a response.

"Maxon," I heard from my left again. I turned to see Kriss looking at me her eyes void of emotion, but as I looked closer, I saw that her right eyes was slightly twitching.

I took in a deep breath, smiling as I answered, "My apologies."

She let a small smile lightly touch her features, but I could tell she was trying to be patient with me. "Honey, what do you think?"

I made a minuscule shake of my head as if to will forward the answer. I looked down at my hands and then back up, into her eyes, "I'm sorry, what were we talking about?"

"What flowers would you like at the reception?" she asked.

I squeezed my hands into fists under the table, and soon felt my nails break through the skin in my hand, but I just covered my true emotions behind a mask, "Ohh, I don't care, as long as I marry you."

AMERICA

Maxon. Prince Maxon intruded my dreams.

We sat across from each other, he held one of my hands, looking into my eyes as he spoke the same word over and over again in a lilting voice, "America, America."

I woke up to sweaty palms and a heavy feeling weighing on my shoulders.

I'm not loosing it, I tried to remind myself.

I looked down at my hands, bright red and blistering, and again, my certainty wavered.

I decided to avoid the idea and slowly got out of bed.

I set my feet on the cold linoleum floor. I stood, almost shivering in the open away from the warmth of my bed.

I stepped forwards, but before I could get too far, a deep spike of pain stabbed its way though my scull, knocking me to my knees.

I curled in on myself, cradling my throbbing head between my knees.

A pitiful cry escaped my mouth, muffled by my hands.

A sudden rush of wind scraped against the top of my head as my room was burst into.

Someone knelt beside me, hesitantly a hand came down on my head, beginning a slow, soothing caress.

"Gwen?" Luke's voice came from the intruder as a strangled cry escaped my mouth.

He pulled back his hand, but I lifted my hand and took his in mine without looking up, wanting-needing-the contact.

And so we sat there, just like that, hands intertwined, not speaking, as the sharp pain in my head turned into a dull throb.

**You guys must seriously hate for many reasons.**

**I hate making excuses, but school and my hundreds of after school activities took over my life, but I'm back and here to stay.**

**Please pay extra close attention to this chapter. I put in a few very important points that will come up again later.**

**It is okay if you are mad at me. This chapter was not very pro-Maxerica, and I got a lot of hate about it from some of my friends. You know who you are. Cough, cough, Genevieve.**

**I'll post again by next Wednesday!**

**Keep on reading and please review and tell me what you thought!**


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